


"It's just one of those nights"

by ScrewTop (ThereAreNoStringsOnMe)



Category: Purely Imaginative
Genre: Humor, Little bit of cussing, little bit of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:30:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereAreNoStringsOnMe/pseuds/ScrewTop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Whites is waiting for orders from Command to lead his eleven other men to a fresh camp called: Camp Frienpein. As the months grow later into the cooler seasons, the other men start complaining. They've been waiting for the general's command to move out for quite some time... and no word has been heard of from the other patrols in weeks... mabe they should just leave now, orders or no orders...it is approximately 2300 hundred hours...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another short! Enjoy.

**It was cold that night** , colder than usual in camp Dozene, off the banks of Sink en Fosse. A teeth chattering wind blew in from the north, and General Whites didn't like the look of where this weather was going...

"General, -" Commander Yokes insisted, "if the weather keeps up like this, we'll never make it to camp Frienpein...sir, it's been weeks since we heard any news of the other patrols, and even longer since the men have eaten a decent meal-"

Yokes was cut off by the general's gruff voice."I have been given orders from my superiors at Mount Tabletop to remain here, until told to do anything other than that. There are still enough provisions and food to last us at the very least another month! All this about decent meals is ridiculous."

Yokes shook his head."No it isn't ridiculous. The men are saying other thing too, about how cold it has been, and how they are being treated unfairly-"

The general slapped his hands down on a table in front of him. " _Unfairly?!_ What are we a band of piss blanket children gone camping in the woods? Crying our little asses off because our toes get a little chill? No. You will go and tell them-"

Yokes slapped his hands down on the table to, " They won't listen to me! I've already tried... Oh, dear biscuits! Don't you see what's happening sir?" The commanders face looked whiter than usual. "The men are talking about revolting and taking over!" Yokes looked around, making sure no one else was listening. He leaned closer to the general and whispered, "Their talking about _killing_ you sir!"

The generals eyes bulged. "Killing me? Well what the hell for?... Are you the one behind this little game Yokes? Ah, this all some sort of joke isn't it?"

Yokes shook his head again. "I wish it was sir. But the reality is, well: the men's faith in you has been cracking for the past few weeks sir. Some of them have been planning the big move even before that."

General Whites slapped his hands on his wide, round hips. "Why should I believe a word that's been pooped out of your mouth? If I didn't know any better, I'd say that your just trying to scare me away from carrying out my orders. Is that it Yokes? After my silver star, is that it?"

Yokes pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. " _Sir!_ This isn't about stars or stripes, I'm trying to save our skins."

General Whites scoffed. "Saving our skins? What are you talking about - what have you done to make them want to kill you?"

Yokes thought for a moment. "Well, working for you, I guess. You know I'm the one who delivers your messages to the men directly."

"Oh alright. Shit. Well, what do have in mind? You know I aint that much of a coward."

Yokes exhaled a long held breath. "OK, first we have to leave right now, and get as far away from here as we can."

The general huffed. "Now? Are you sure that the men are going to try and kill us tonight? "

Yokes nodded. "Oh yes. Without a doubt."

The general nodded to himself. "Fine. But how are you planning on getting out us out of here without getting spotted?"

Yokes' smile stretched from ear to ear...that is, if he had any ears. "Well you see, I figured that the men will be slow and sort of sleepy, being that they've been up all night. So why don't we run out and make our getaway in your car?" He sounded very enthusiastic.

The general, on the other hand, was less so. "Are you serious? We'd be shot the moment we left the door step! Besides, we're completely unarmed."

The commander leaned over, grabbing something on the floor, "Not _completely_ unarmed." He wabbled up straight again and slammed a couple 12 gauge hunting rifles on the table. "I grabbed these on the way over here, they're locked and loaded." He tossed one over to General Whites.

The general examined the stock and the barrel of the rifle. "Well, seems to be in good shape. Pump action?"

"Yup."

"Ready to go then?"

"Yup"

They both cocked the hunting rifles loudly, slamming slug shells into the hungry chambers. "Let's go shit on their little parade!"

Yokes shrugged. "OK."

They kicked the doors open and made for the car, some 20 meters or so away. As soon as they left the door step, there was a rain of lead and a sound like thunder. The two kept running with their heads ducked low, bullets whizzing over head like swarms of angry bees. They counted their paces as they went, keeping their eyes on the car. ' _20 meters...15 meters...10...5.._. Out from behind a tree popped one that they hadn't seen, but when they did it was already to late. A shot was fired. It was over. Out of the hundreds of rounds spent by the enemy, only one had hit. But a grievous blow it was. The general stopped short, his entire middle center had been blown out; a yellow goo gushed from his wound. Yokes stopped dead in his tracks. He had heard the crack. He spun around, jumped to the ground next to the general, and began firing his own weapon at the enemy. Try as he might, Yokes knew that there were too many, and that they would both be surrounded if they didn't go now.

The general coughed out some yellow stuff, clutched the commanders arm, and shouted, "Get- the hell out of here! Go!"

Yokes paused to reload, shook his head and shouted, "No! I'm not leaving you behind sir!" He cocked the rifle again, and opened fire.

The general gripped Yokes tighter, drawing the young commander's attention back to the dying general. Yokes looked into the generals wet and frightened eyes, and with a last choked breath, Whites cried out, " **Run**!!!"

Yokes closed his eyes for a brief moment, then with a grunt of anguish left the generals side and ran the rest of the ways to the car.

The general with what strength was left in him, picked his rifle up off the ground and provided cover fire for the commander. And the last thing the General White heard was the sound of squealing tires and he heard no more...


	2. "The heavy Yoke of war"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY IN THIS ABSURD STORY...  
> ...Yokes knew that there were to many, and that they  
> would both be surrounded. The general coffed out some yellow stuff, clutched the  
> commanders arm, and shouted, "Get- the hell out of here! Go!" Yokes paused to  
> reload, shook his head and said, "No! I'm not leaveing you!" He cocked the rifle  
> again, and opened fire. The general grip Yokes shirt tightly, drawing the young  
> commander's attention back to the dying general. Yokes looked into the generals wet  
> and frightened eyes, and with a last choked breath,Whites cryed out, "Run!!!" Yokes  
> closed his eyes for a brief moment, then with a grunt of anguish left the generals side  
> and ran the rest of the ways to the car. Stomping on the gas, he ripped off down the dirt road, leaving everything behind... but a hope of escape...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another ShOrt. Enjoy!

              **The dawn was cool and crisp** when Commander Yokes ran out of gas, near the old lumber mill _Magi Bulle_ , just off the edge of the large and dark forest: _Brocco Collae_. Pulling over to the side of the road, the engine killed, along with any hope of gaining much distance in a short amount of time. He had  no idea where he was going or if he was being followed... "Well, so far...not so good." He huffed out a breath. Reaching behind the seat he hefted out his hunting rifle. He searched through the rest of the car for anything useful. What he turned up was a flashlight, a book of matches, some extra shells for the rifle-thank goodness-and a _Goodie-nut-Roll_ in the glove box. He grinned. Shoving all these things into a Wall-Mart grocery bag, he tied it to the end of his rifle and hung it over his shoulder. He slammed the car door shut and turned to the open, flat road ahead. "I'm not going to get very far going that way, and if I am being followed there's no doubt that I'll be spotted. I'll have to cut through the forest." He took one step in the direction of the woods, some two hundred meters East of the road, when he heard the sound of a motor comeing down the road where he had just come." **Damn it**! I  was being followed. But where can I hide?"

The General's gruff voice came ringing into his mind, rebuking him. 'Hide? You son of a bitch! I never thought I'd see the day when one of my own men would even _think_ of hiding on the side lines of a fight! Now, your gunna go out there, tell em' what the hell is what. And if they still wanna fight; blow their damn brains out!'

Yokes almost cried out - _yes sir!_ \- but had enough brains to keep quiet. In about a minute, the motor car was in clear sight, he could even tell the color of it - green. The good Commander checked the number of rounds he had left: twelve in the chamber, thirty-three in his sling belt he had grabbed from the camp he had just hours ago escaped with his life. The green car pulled up and over about ten meters behind from where he had pulled over. Yokes took a deep breath, shouldered the gun and waited. Five guys exited the car. They looked around and, seeing Yokes, started their aproach. They seemed decent, happy but tired. When they came close enough to see Yokes' rifle, they stopped smiling. All stopped but one.

This one walked slowly up to Yokes and held out his hand, saying, "Hey. I'm Joe. The boys call me _splenda_..." He waited for some kind of reaction, but none was given; Yokes looked by all means to be damn serious, but really was scared as hell. "...I was wondering if you had any gas on you. You see we kinda ran out. So if you could help us out..." Joe waited again. Still no answer. "Look. All I'm asking for is a little fuel, if you can spare it."

"And if I can't?" Yokes tried to sound intimidating.

"Then I guess we'll be on our way-"

"I thought you said you were out of gas."

Joe's face turned upside down. "Well that's just the shit, aint it?"

"Yup."

"It dosn't gotta be this way kid-"

"Nope."

"So your gunna cooperate then?"

Yokes levelled the rifle square at Joe's chest.

"Not in your life."

If Joe was a little shocked, he hid it well. He just smiled and said, "OK, fine. I'll just go tell the boys-" He unholstered a 9mm. and held it level with Yokes in an instant.

Yokes blinked twice in shock. He'd never known anyone who could pull a gun out that fast, ever. Not even the General.

"Now, hand over the gun, son. And nobody has to get-"

Yokes fired his shot first. And an excelent shot it was. It knocked Joe to the ground, splinters everwhere. 'One down-' he thought to himself, '- four more to go.' But it wasn't going to be as easy as that. Already the other guys were scrambling back into the car, shouting all sorts of things as they grabbed out weapons of their own. Yokes barely had enough time to get to cover behind his own car's front end, before a hail storm of artillery came flying over his head. He ducked low. Very low. So low in fact that he was able to see the feet of the enemy advancing. He was deep in it. Out numbered, and out gunned. He had to make some kind of plan: one that he preferred ended with him not getting killed. He risked a peek over the hood. **Ping!** A bullet hit the car, just next to his head. He jerked his head back to cover. He looked under the car; no feet. Suddenly the gun fire ceased. Yokes was just about to glance over the hood again when a gun barrel was pressed up against his face. He froze like a dead man. Some one had come around the side of the car when he wasn't looking.

The man behind the gun yelled, "Freeze! Don't move." Two other men came up behind the first. The fourth one came around the other side. They all simoltaniasly cocked their guns; which so happened to be submachine guns and shotguns. "Now, drop the gun!"

The Commander didn't move. And why should he? These guys just tried to kill him, over some fuel. He gripped it tighter.

"I said, _drop the gun_!" He pushed up closer with his gun. "Are you _deaf?!_ Drop it!!!"

Seconds seemed like hours. There was no winning this one. Not even a chance. Four against one? Get outa here. That's it then. He had to give up. It is what it is. You can't win them all. Yokes sighed, his head lowered. He slowly... _reluctantly_ , let his rifle slip out of his hands and fall to the ground. No sooner had he done so, then they were on him; zip ties, gag and a bag. They hauled him off to their car, and shoved him in the trunk. After about what he figured a good half hour, he slipped into an exausted unconciousness. 'Out of gas, yeah right!'....(Black Out)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a little word: It has been clinicly proven that commenting makes you a happier person!  
> Try it... it can't hurt!  
> Peaces!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll see if I continue. It was fun to right. Peaces!  
> You may comment. Really...Just keep it soft.


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